Word Count: 2.9k

My eyes darted around each landscape I flew through, ranging all the way from desolate towns to rolling hills to high mountain peaks covered in blankets of snow. Loud chatter began to fill up the radio I had left on the metal floor beneath my feet, most of it either in Spanish or unintelligible English. Wind rushed past the chopper, filling up the cabin and whipping me against my face as I pushed forward, my trembling hands remaining somewhat steady around the two handles between my knees. My gaze briefly glanced over to the navigation screen stationed at the right of me, my position on the doppler signaling I was very close. My breathing began to grow unsteady as the reality of my situation settled itself upon my shoulders, beginning to feel as though it was choking me.

Shaking my head, I kept my sights focused on what was before me, not having the time to delve into my troubling thoughts. My throat ran dry as a rhythmic beep from my monitor alerted me I was arriving at my destination, the windy fucking city: Chicago. Abruptly, I began to descend my chopper from the clouds, the wind howling louder in my ears, the area truly living up to its name. My hair blew around my face, slightly inhibiting my vision as my gaze darted from one skyscraper to the next, scanning each one for any indication of the Task Force, of Hassan. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, c'mon..." I muttered under my breath, my heart beginning to beat more rapidly inside my chest. Time was of the essence. My breath hitched in my throat the moment something caught my eye, a smoking building that looked to be about a hundred stories tall.

My fingers quickly clicked down on a button, two bright lights flickering on instantly afterwards at the forefront of the chopper, illuminating everything laid out before me. Squinting my eyes, two silhouettes came into view on what looked to be fiftieth or so floor of the skyscraper, my lungs constricting in my chest, already knowing exactly who those people were. Pulling my lips between my teeth, I jerked the handles downward without a second thought. Loud blaring sounds filling my ears immediately afterward, alerting me that aircraft was beginning to break apart, that I was flying too low, too fast. A whirring sound reverberated throughout the cockpit the closer I got to the building before billowing smoke erupted from the rotors, filling my nostrils with its burning scent.

My hands continued to pull the handles down, the blaring noises erupting from the speakers only growing louder as the entire chopper shook, the contents of the interior flying out through the open doors. "Error, error, error, error, error-" a robotic female voice spoke on repeat as if a broken record, though the alarms fell on my deaf ears. A smirk pulled at my lips as the skyscraper became closer... closer... closer... before finally, the chopper exploded into pieces as it tore through the glass windows and stony exterior of the building, bursting into flames upon impact. Wheezing coughs fell from between my lips as I steadied myself, my eyes burning from the fire seconds away from engulfing me. A loud, strangled cry fell from my mouth as my gaze darted down to my arm, my snapped bone peeking out through my bloody, jagged flesh.

A searing pain erupted across my left leg, feeling as my soft skin began to melt underneath the flame traveling up it. "FUCK!" I screamed loudly in pain, tears starting to brim my waterline. Smoke began to consume me, thick with acrid tendrils that clawed at my sore throat and singed skin. My breathing came out in desperate gasps as the thick grey clouds infiltrated my lungs with its unwelcome embrace. Shaking my head, and blinking through the tears filling my dry eyes, I dug my working fingers into the shrapnel beneath me, using it as leverage to drag my body forward. Excruciating pain filled every single one of senses, burrowing itself deep into the crevices in mind, clouding my brain with shock. But I had to fight, had to keep going. This couldn't have all been for nothing.

Yanking myself forward with all the strength I had left to offer, my body toppled through the smashed front window of the chopper before landing harshly on the cool tiled floor beneath my writhing form. "FUCK, F-FUCK!" I sobbed in agony as my eyes darted down to the reddened, blistered skin of my leg before my gaze traveled up to my arm that hung limply at my side, bent in an unnatural angle. More tears found their way to my eyes as I choked back wails desperately trying to break free from the very base of my throat. But I had to move. Just move. Move. My feet stumbled beneath me as I forced myself upright, my broken ankle dragging underneath my calf as I limped forward. Blood dripped from the large gash buried deep into the flesh of my dirtied forehead, blurring half of my vision in a red haze.

My working hand gripped my side, fresh blood trickling through my fingertips as I gritted my teeth together in pure agony. Large cuts and bruises littered my entire body, my shirt ripped in most places, the legs of my pants completely burnt to a crisp. A dead woman walking. Loud yelling filled my ears, my legs slowly stumbling to the source of it. Cold sweats doused by overheated form, my head beginning to feel extremely light-headed as I fought back nausea. Not yet. Not until I right every single one of my wrongs. My hazy eyes lazily traveled from the dead Al-Qatala soldiers laid sprawled across every room I walked through up to an open area of the floor. The noises growing louder and louder, though sounding muffled through my ringing ears. Bile began to rise in my throat as I forced myself forward. Just a little bit longer, just a little bit more time. Don't take me yet.

Huge pools of blood followed me everywhere I went, dribbling down the multiple lacerations inflicted across my body, some metal pieces of shrapnel jutting out from different places on my flesh. My feet stuttered for a moment before I collapsed into a heap on the ground, my entirety trembling in insurmountable pain. The lids of my eyes began to grow heavier as more blood leaked from my paling form, my life slowly seeping out of me. My mouth ran dry, my throat constricting as I fought back more gut-wrenching sobs, losing all energy to do so for any longer. Keep going, please find the strength to just keep going. Shaking my dizzied head, I pushed all my weight into my one palm, forcing myself upright again, my working foot instantly stumbling to the side, sending my body crashing into a wall. Just keep going. You're so close, I promise, just a little bit more. Swallowing thickly, I limped forward once again, using the wall next to me for support.

Two voices filtered through my fuzzy head, one Scottish and one Arabic, yelling at each other in the room just before me. So close. Pushing myself off the wall, I hobbled into the room, Soap and Hassan immediately falling silent. A smirk crept its way up to my trembling lips as I continued to progress forward, my body swaying side to side as I did so. Soap's eyes widened in complete panic while Hassan's narrowed in hate, amusement finding its way to his glare soon after. My gaze lazily darted between the two of them, blood beginning to pool at my feet, the stench of iron invading my singed nostril hairs, intermingling with the scent of my burnt flesh. Soap looked conflicted, fighting between the part of him wanting to help me and the part that believed the accusation Laswell had thrown my way. Hassan was fighting nothing at all, probably just debating whether he wanted to kill me or Soap first. Too bad he wouldn't get that chance. "Hello," I muttered, my voice hoarse.

Price's POV

My phone began buzzing at my side, gaining my attention from the sight before me: Y/n's cell completely empty. Laswell's name popped up on my screen, there was no hesitation in my finger as it pressed down on the answer button. "What's up Kate," I asked as I stepped into the room, glancing from the Los Vaqueros soldier tending to his swollen neck back down to the zip ties laid out on the ground. "The decoding came back from the messages we believed Y/n had sent," her voice carried through the speaker as I brought the device up to my ear. "And?" I asked as I looked back at the soldier, giving him a slight nod. "They were all gibberish," she replied, her voice holding some slight urgency. The crease between my eyebrows deepened as her words settled in my brain, confusion making its way to my features.

Shaking my head, I replied instantly, "What?" My voice almost sounding incredulous. She sighed deeply, the sound of rustling papers filled up the brief silence between us for just a moment. "All of them were just complete gibberish, the only thing that was not being 141," she stated, the rustling of papers ceasing from her side of the phone. My lips pulled together before I smacked them, not finding the words to respond with. "So, I decided to dig into it more, and what I found was shocking," she continued, "She never sent them. They were used under her service number but pinged from a different soldier's device that didn't belong to her." Nodding my head, I listened intently, worry soon becoming etched on my features the longer I stared into Y/n's empty cell, the longer Kate continued to speak.

"When I traced the device, a different soldiers number popped up," she sighed, "Real name's Zain Abadi, goes by the alias of Blaze." My eyes widened as I cleared my throat, fingering a cigar out of the front pouch of my tactical vest. "So, she's innocent?" I gruffly asked, positioning my phone between my shoulder and ear as I fished for the lighter in my cargo pants. "Yes, she's innocent," Kate replied, some remorse in her tone, "...She wasn't lying about that." My thumb flicked down on the lighter, sending the lid open, revealing a small flame that I quickly lit my cigar with. "Release her John," she quickly added on. Bringing the cigar up to my lips, I took a long drawn out puff as I shook my head, "About that," I muttered, "She's not here." Kate's breath hitched audibly through the phone, her tone growing thick with uncertainty.

"Well then where the hell is she?"

Y/n's POV

Hassan began to break out into laughter, his amusement-filled eyes scanning me up and down. "Seeing how your friend here doesn't give a fuck about your current condition, I assume they know you're my daughter," he darkly chuckled. My left foot slid behind me as I grinned at him, hobbling my way forward until I stood only a couple feet from where he was positioned at. "Fuck you," I spat before breaking into a coughing fit, clutching my gaping gunshot wound more tightly, streams of crimson leaking through my bloodied fingers. Soap stared blankly between us, not moving even a single inch, the only proof of his existence being the quickened rise and fall of his chest. "Is that any way to speak to your father?" Hassan's voice boomed throughout the room, making me wince in pain.

A small bittersweet smile curled at the corners of my mouth as I stared at him through a red haze, "You are no father," I whispered dryly, my voice stinging the back of my raw throat. Hassan's hands clenched into fists at his sides as his eyes hardened, his feet quickly bringing himself closer to me until our bodies were practically touching. "I have only done what's best for you! For our entire nation!" He shouted bitterly in my face, spit flying from his mouth. My once tired eyes lit ablaze with pure anger, "You only did what was best for you and your interests alone!" I screamed back at him, blood spurting from the many wounds riddling my body as my voice continued to rise. Hassan shook his head, his eyes narrowing down at me further, "You and your mother," he scoffed, "Both weak and pathetic women." 

All pain seemed to evaporate from my form as his sentence echoed around in my head, my jaw clenching as pure rage surged through my veins, coursing through my practically lifeless body, giving me just a little bit more fight, fight I so desperately needed. "You-" I pointed my finger in his face "- are the only pathetic one here. A pathetic excuse of a father, a pathetic excuse of a man, and a pathetic excuse of a soldier!" I barked angrily, my eyes narrowing down much like his own. Hassan's teeth gritted together, his lips pulling between them before he scoffed loudly. "You will rot in hell for what you've done to our nation! For what you've done to me!" He roared angrily, stomping further up to where I stood, closing all space between us. But, I was no longer scared of him. No longer would I cower in fear from his words, from his actions. Not anymore. Not ever again. "Guess we'll rot together," I laughed painfully, tears glistening in my eyes, "See you in hell, father."

Using every last bit of strength I had left, I threw my body forward, wrapping my arm tightly around his torso before I sent both of us flying through the window behind him, the glass shattering upon impact as both of our body's smashed through it. Soap's loud screaming, Hassan's frantic yelling, all soon became drowned out by the wind rushing through my ears. A bittersweet smile crept up to my lips as I shut my eyes, basking in the sensation of rushing air against my battered body. Before, I used to believe I never knew the difference between right and wrong, never knew how to differentiate the two no matter how hard I desperately tried. A mental tug of war always relentlessly battled in my mind, day and night, the good moments always seeming fleeting, and the bad ones never ending. But that blur between the two, the blur that contributed to so many actions of mine--the wrongful killing, the constant lying, the pain I'd inflicted on others--had finally been wiped clean. By Ghost and Soap. By Alejandro and Rodolfo. By Price and Gaz. By everybody whom I've grown to love, by everybody who's shown me what life can truly be all about. The good and bad, the right and wrong, it all seemed so clear now.

Just hours ago I believed joining the Task Force was the beginning of my end, that it had all been a mistake, that running from my enviable fate would catch up to me sooner or later. Maybe some of that was true, but I wouldn't change any of it for the world. If you were to tell me just a couple weeks ago that I'd fling myself off a building for the better of not only the Task Force, but for the entire world, I would've laughed in your face. Laughed until I couldn't laugh anymore. Isn't it funny how things can change in just the shortest amount of time? Even now, knowing this would be how it'd all end, there isn't a single doubt inside my mind that this, all of this, truly was the best thing that's ever happened to me. From being imprisoned, to bargaining for my life, to joining the Task Force, to falling in love with Ghost, to going on my first mission all the way to my last, to being falsely accused, to stealing a helicopter, to finally coming to my bittersweet end, it just isn't something that I'd trade for the life of me. 

Tears flowing from my closed eyes flew up into the air as my body barreled closer down to the rough asphalt beneath me, though there was no fear in my body, no panic, no terror infesting my mind. Peacefulness washed over me like a tidal wave, pulling me into its ocean's soft currents, bathing my tired body in its blissful waves. My thoughts wandered to Ghost the further I fell, the man whom I've grown to love, wondering what he was thinking, wondering what was running through his head. Did he care? Does he love me as well? Though none of that would matter soon enough. Part of me wanted to believe he believed me when I begged him to, something deep in the back of my brain telling me that he truly did. My mind then began to wander to my mother, wondering where she was, hoping there was a smile on her face, joy finally in her eyes. Loud screams of pedestrians below let me know my timer was finally approaching zero, my body living out its last seconds. As everything finally went black for what I believed to be the last time, one sentence my mother had spoken to me long ago replayed in my mind like an endless loop, keeping the soft smile spread across my lips. 

"I know you will always do what is right, my sunflower."

And I truly believe I have.